The first week at the Academy of Eternis flew by like one long, exhausting day.
Kayian barely slept. During the day he attended mandatory classes on magic theory and imperial history, and in the evenings he went to the training halls to develop his schools. The system recorded every success, but progress was slow.
[Shadow: 1st rank, 23% toward 2nd]
[Lightning: 1st rank, 18% toward 2nd]
It wasn't enough.
Second rank would unlock basic combat techniques. Right now he could only enhance himself—accelerate, become invisible in shadows, deliver weak electrical shocks. Against any serious opponent, this was insufficient.
But the real problem lay elsewhere.
"Wellstream, you're late again." The voice of the Shadow instructor, Master Corvus, was dry.
Kayian entered the room. Ten pairs of eyes stared at him. First‑year students selected for advanced Shadow study sat at their desks. Among them were those who looked curious and those who looked contemptuous.
"My apologies, Master," Kayian said, taking an empty seat in the back row.
"Next time I'll keep you after class." Corvus returned to the board. "Now, let's continue. Today we discuss the limits of illusions. A Shadow mage can create images, but any image has a breaking point. My question to the group: what is that limit?"
The students stirred. Kayian knew the answer. In his past life he had studied Shadow only superficially, but the theory had stuck.
"It depends on concentration and mana volume," someone from the front answered.
"Not quite." Corvus shook his head. "There is another factor."
"The observer's belief," Kayian said.
Silence. Corvus turned to him, surprise showing on his face.
"Elaborate."
"An illusion works only as long as the observer believes in its reality," Kayian continued. "If a person realizes they are being deceived, the illusion breaks. That is why the strongest Shadow mages don't create images—they distort perception. They make the observer see what is already there, but in a different light."
Corvus slowly nodded.
"Impressive, Wellstream. For a first‑rank student, you have a solid grasp of theory. Let's see how you fare in practice."
He approached Kayian and placed a small black stone in front of him.
"This is a Shadow crystal. Create an image inside it. The more complex, the better."
Kayian took the crystal in his hands. He could feel the cold energy pulsing inside. In his past life he hadn't known how to work with this. Now he had to.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. The image he chose was simple: a black crow perched on a branch. He poured magic into it, drop by drop. The crystal trembled, and a blurred shape appeared within.
"First rank," Corvus commented dryly. "The image is barely distinguishable. But for your level—acceptable."
Kayian opened his eyes. The shape inside the crystal had already faded. He knew he could have done better if he had used Blood magic to enhance it. But not here. Not now.
At the end of the class, one of his fellow students approached him—a lanky young man with sharp features.
"You're that Wellstream who surrendered in the final?" he asked, his voice tinged with mockery.
"Yes," Kayian replied, gathering his things.
"Strange. From your answer in the lecture, you seem smarter than you looked in the fight."
Kayian looked at him. The system displayed information:
[Leon Arven
School: Shadow (1st rank)
Status: son of a fallen House, seeking a patron]
"I'm not looking for easy victories," Kayian said. "I'm looking for effective ones."
Leon smirked.
"That sounds like an excuse."
"Call it what you like."
Kayian left the room and headed toward the Lightning hall. On the way he ran into Selena. She was walking arm in arm with some girl, but when she saw Kayian she let go of her companion and came over.
"Kayian, I've been looking for you," her voice was agitated.
"What's wrong?"
"I've been summoned to the Council of Archons. Tomorrow."
Kayian frowned.
"Why?"
"They say they want to offer me individual training. But I… I'm afraid. You said attention on me is dangerous."
"It is." He took her by the elbow and led her aside, away from any eavesdroppers. "A third‑rank Spirit mage is a rare resource. They'll want to use you. The Imperial Court, the Great Houses, even the Council itself. If you accept their offer, you'll become a pawn."
"But if I refuse…" Selena paled.
"If you refuse, they'll decide you're a danger. And then they'll get rid of you."
She clenched her fists.
"What should I do?"
Kayian thought. In his past life, Selena had died precisely because she attracted too much attention. Now he had to change that.
"Tell them you want to finish your first year as a regular student. Ask for time to consider. That will give us a month to find you a patron who can protect you."
"A patron? Who?"
"I'll find one," Kayian replied. "Trust me."
Selena looked at him for a long moment. Fear and hope mingled in her eyes.
"All right. I trust you."
She left, and Kayian stood in the corridor. The system issued a message:
[Attention! Temporal line deviation: Selena Arkwood. Survivability +5%. Fate Points awarded: 10.]
Twenty‑five points, he thought. Barely anything.
He walked on. The Lightning hall was in the east tower. A class was already in session there, but Kayian was late and decided to train on his own.
He found an empty room for individual practice, activated the magical barrier, and stood in the center.
"System, training mode," he commanded mentally.
[Training mode activated. Current Lightning progress: 18%. Estimated time to 2nd rank at current intensity: 3 weeks.]
"Too long," he muttered.
He raised his hands and discharged Lightning at the wall. A yellow spark struck the stone, leaving a barely visible mark.
Again and again he repeated the exercise, trying to increase the power. After an hour he was exhausted, but progress amounted to only half a percent.
He sat on the floor, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"If I keep this up, I won't be ready for the assassination attempt on Father."
He opened the Fragment Shop. 95 Fate Points. He could buy a temporary enhancement, but that wouldn't solve the underlying problem.
Suddenly he felt someone else's presence. His hand clenched instantly, ready to release a discharge.
"Don't strike," a familiar voice said.
A figure emerged from the shadow in the corner of the room. Crow.
"You're here again." Kayian didn't lower his hand.
"I'm always here," Crow tilted his head. "You just don't always notice me."
"What do you want?"
"To warn you. Your friend, Selena, is in danger. The Council of Archons won't wait a month. They're going to make her an offer she can't refuse. And if she does refuse, an 'accident' awaits her."
Kayian tensed.
"When?"
"Tomorrow. After lunch."
"And what do you suggest?"
Crow stepped forward, the light falling on his mask. Beneath it, Kayian glimpsed the edge of a scar running from chin to temple.
"There's someone at the Academy who can protect her. Rector Verius. He doesn't like dirty dealings in his domain. If you can convince him that Selena is in danger, he'll take her under his personal protection."
"Why do you care?" Kayian asked. "Why are you helping?"
Crow was silent. The pause stretched.
"Because in the past timeline," he said finally, "Selena didn't just die. She became the cause of a war. Her death sparked a conflict that destroyed half the Empire. If she dies again, everything will repeat."
Kayian clenched his fists.
"I won't let that happen."
"I hope not." Crow began to dissolve into the shadows. "But remember: you have enemies you don't even suspect. And some of them already know who you really are."
"Who?"
But Crow was gone, leaving only a faint chill in the air.
Kayian stood in the middle of the empty room, thoughts swarming in his head. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he had to save Selena. Tomorrow he had to step out of the shadow he'd been hiding in.
He looked at his hands. Blood magic pulsed within them—forbidden, dangerous, but so tempting.
If I have to, I'll use it. For her. For myself. For the future.
He left the training hall and headed toward the dormitory. The snow kept falling, covering the Academy in a white blanket.
Tomorrow would change everything.